Review

Former Pixies frontman finds new life on an abstract plain
The post-Pixies solo career of Frank Black has at times seemed almost maniacally untethered. From dalliances with Dadaism to bare-bones four-track garage-burners, it seemed not so much like evolution as never-ending transformation.

Conveniently, those transformations happened in phases. The cluster of solo records Black released on Elektra in the early '90s found him diving even deeper into his singular stream of consciousness, playing fevered games of word-association over hammering, angular riffs. Without anyone to rein him in, Black hurtled out — way out — into the surreal stratosphere, handily summing up his entire aesthetic in the song "(I Want to Live on an) Abstract Plain." That incarnation bottomed out on 1996's Cult of Ray, a plodding sci-fi concept piece that felt like a particular letdown after 1994's marvelous Teenager of the Year. After that, Black redirected: he stripped back and turned out two fine rock records with the Catholics before heading out for the country on the rollicking Dog in the Sand. From that point forward, it's been a giddy mix of conventional rock and surrealist gumbo.

All of these phases are on display — in order! — on 93 – 03, a double-disc compilation that serves as the perfect distillation of Black's proudly unkempt solo catalogue. The early material is the best by far — it's hard to top the pealing melody of "Abstract Plain" or the screwball sing-song of "Headache" — but the later songs have proven surprisingly durable. "I Gotta Move," from the first, four-track Catholics record, is fantastically chintzy and "Hermaphroditos" from Dog in the Sand ranks as one of Black's most effortlessly jubilant outings. Rounded out by a second disc of suitably ragged live recordings (don't miss the raucous cover of the Larry Norman chestnut "Six Sixty Six"), 93 – 03 is all of Black's loose ends and wild hairs, shrunk down and pocket-sized.